


Florecita

by merlypops



Series: Beautiful Words - 5SOS Stories [22]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Bullying, Cake, Child Abandonment, Crush at First Sight, Cute Ending, Depression, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family, Fights, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Happy Ending, Hate Crimes, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Assault, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mashton, Mood Swings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sad, Smut, Song Lyrics, Suicidal Thoughts, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Violence, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlypops/pseuds/merlypops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Ash remembers how Michael slumped down beside him and rested his head on Ashton’s shoulder, almost without meaning to, and Ash remembers how he put his arm hesitantly around Michael’s shoulders and simply held him there.<br/>“If it makes it any easier,” he remembers saying to Michael softly. “I love you too.”'</p><p>
  <b>Ashton and Michael's love is like the sea - rough at times and calm at others, but always there. Always.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unholy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unholy/gifts).



> This fic is for Marlon (unholy) because she's lovely and i love her and wow you guys should go read her stuff because it's awesome!!! <3  
> Basically, this fic is _super_ angsty and I blame "Everything I Didn't Say" for this. Like it isn't even a oneshot anymore, it's a three-part fic which is unusual for me.  
>  I don't know.  
> Basically I hope you enjoy this and, if I make any of you sad, I'm _really_ sorry but hopefully I don't.  
>  Enjoy!

**florecita**

_little flower_

 

**1**

Ashton Irwin remembers how, back when he was a kid, life was pretty damn good.

He remembers how he had two parents who loved him a lot and two younger siblings who he played with all the time. He remembers how they had a puppy and how his mum made him birthday cakes with colourful icing on, and he remembers how warm and cosy his bedroom was with all of the blankets and teddies.

Ash remembers how there was a little, fluffy, soft grey kitten that lived next door and how she climbed up onto the fence sometimes and let Ashton pet her if she was feeling brave, and he remembers how there was honeysuckle climbing a trellis by the front door and how he had a special cactus that grew pink flowers in a ceramic pot Lauren had painted at school on the kitchen counter beside the sink.

He remembers how he got cuddles _all_ the time and his mum stroked his curls and called him Poss, and his dad lifted him up to put him on his shoulders, and Harry held Ash’s hand because he was learning to walk and Lauren thought her big brother was the funniest person she’d ever met.

More than anything, Ash remembers feeling _loved_.

He remembers how everything in his life was sunshine and roses, until it wasn’t anymore.

*

Ash remembers how his parents started to argue a lot more, sometimes shouting and other times in quiet hisses that they didn’t think Ashton or the little ones could hear.

He remembers how his mum Anne walked them to school in brooding silence every morning and how his dad didn’t come home until very late at night, when Ashton and Lauren and Harry had long-since been put to bed.

Ash remembers how, once, he heard the front door slam and he climbed out of bed and slipped downstairs to find his mum crying on the sofa, her head in her hands and an eye that was rapidly swelling shut.

Ash remembers how much she cried when she saw him standing there. He remembers the icy feeling of _something_ spreading through his veins without knowing what it was at the time, and Ash remembers how he was _glad_ when his dad didn’t come home that night as he sat down on the sofa hesitantly beside Anne and cuddled her close as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

He remembers how, much to his dismay, that only made her cry _harder_.

*

Ash remembers when his dad left them.

He remembers how, in the months leading up to it, things _weren’t_ nice at _all_ , and he remembers how, on the day that it happened, everything had actually began fairly _normally_.

He remembers how he ate honey nut cornflakes for breakfast and drank a navy blue beaker of apple juice that had a picture of _Thomas the Tank Engine_ on the side of it. Ash remembers making a fuss because it was a baby cup and he was a _big boy_ now because he was almost _eight_ , and Ash remembers how Anne said: “ _Please_ be good, Poss. I _n-need_ you to be g-good” in this broken little voice and Ash remembers how much it _scared_ him as he fell silent and finished his breakfast without talking.

Ash remembers being glad he had school that day (something which rarely _ever_ happened) because his dad was at home, and he remembers when Anne arrived at the school with Harry in his buggy and Lauren clinging to one of the handles as they waited to walk him home that afternoon.

Ash remembers hurrying up to them and hanging his bag on the buggy, just like he always did, and he remembers when his mum dropped a kiss onto his curls even though there were other _kids_ around and Ash remembers not minding for once because she looked upset and she’d brought a chocolate chip cookie just for him in a little paper bag.

Ash remembers how she ruffled his curls before she led them out of the playground with a soft: “Let’s go home, my darlings”, and Ash remembers what happened afterwards.

He remembers how they were halfway down the front path when the door swung open and their dad appeared, staggering under the weight of two heavy-looking cases of what had to be clothes and other belongings.

Ash remembers how his dad hadn’t noticed them yet and he remembers how the bags were tossed into the back of the car and how he had started towards the driver’s side before Harry gurgled at him and Lauren squealed: “ _Daddy!_ ” and darted over to him.

Ash remembers being confused then because why was he packing all of his bags into the boot of the car? Was he going on a holiday or something? Why hadn’t he _told_ them?

Ash remembers looking up at his mum and seeing how _pale_ her face had gone as she stared at her husband in shock. Ash remembers how his dad was patting Lauren on the head unwillingly as she wrapped herself around his leg and clung on, and Ash remembers how Harry started crying then because he couldn’t get to their dad.

Ash remembers how he drew closer to Anne almost unconsciously then, gripping the back of her jumper protectively in his little fist and watching his dad with baleful hazel eyes as Anne covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to cry.

Ash remembers how his dad gently extricated himself from Lauren’s grip and opened the car door, his expression almost _challenging_ as he watched his wife with obvious scrutiny. Ash remembers how Anne shuddered and turned away, pushing the buggy and a still-wailing Harry towards the house and shakily asking Ashton to retrieve his extremely confused little sister.

Ash remembers how he had to _really_ tug at Lauren’s hand before she would follow him, and Ash remembers how he looked inside and saw his mum crying through the window into the hallway, and Ash remembers how he looked his dad straight in the eye and said: “You hurt my mum. I _h-hate_ you.”

Ash remembers how his hatred might not have been true at the time, but he remembers how it _definitely_ was as he grew older.

Ash remembers how his dad simply looked at him for a few seconds, his expression one of forced blankness, before he shrugged and turned away, climbing into the car and turning the engine on.

Ash remembers how Lauren squeezed his hand tightly as the car pulled out of the drive with a screech and the scent of burning rubber, and Ash remembers how he had started crying then without even noticing at first.

“Is daddy coming back again?” Ash remembers Lauren whimpering, her wide eyes wet and her eyelashes spiky with tears. Ash remembers how he squeezed her hand again and led her slowly back towards the house.

He remembers not answering because he didn’t know (but he _also_ remembers how he hoped not, because _no one_ was allowed to hurt his mum. _No one_.)

Ash remembers how that was the last time he ever saw his dad.

*

Ash remembers when he met Luke Hemmings.

He remembers how he was about eleven at the time and had gone to the cinema with a couple of the kids from his class at school, and he remembers how he wasn’t having that great a time, even if he _was_ pleased that his mum had let him go out without adult supervision.

Ash remembers how he _can’t_ remember what film they had been watching – so it obviously couldn’t have been that good – but he _does_ remember when he came out of the bathroom and saw some of the guys he was with picking on a little blond kid in a Good Charlotte t-shirt.

Ash remembers how, the closer he got, the more he could hear what they were saying and how it _seemed_ to be centred on the boy’s haircut which, really, was nowhere _near_ as bad as they were making out. It just looked wavy and soft and actually kind of _cute_ , and Ashton was already pissed off with them for behaving like idiots throughout the _entire_ film.

He remembers how he elbowed his way through his classmates to get in front of them and he remembers how the blond kid stared up at him with wide, frightened blue eyes. Ash remembers how his own expression became angry then because the poor kid hadn’t _done_ anything, but Ashton _also_ remembers how the boy relaxed a little, because the _direction_ of Ashton’s anger must have been clear on his face.

“Leave the kid alone!” he remembers exclaiming hotly as one of the guys he’d came in with sniggered behind his hand. “ _I_ think it’s a cool haircut.”

He remembers how one of them muttered: “ _Gay_!” in a stupid voice, and Ash remembers how he shrugged and ignored them as he caught the younger boy’s gaze and gestured towards the exit with a warm: “You wanna get out of here?”

Ash remembers how the kid nodded frantically and grabbed his outstretched hand, and Ash remembers how the morons behind them started laughing raucously then. Ash remembers how someone threw some popcorn at them from behind as they left, and Ash remembers not caring.

He remembers how he flipped them the bird and tried to ignore how _horrible_ school would inevitably be on Monday, and he remembers how they walked out without looking back.

Ash remembers how Luke was still grateful for that, even now.

*

Ash remembers his twelfth birthday.

He remembers how no one talked to him at school anymore really, and he remembers how his only friends these days were Luke and _his_ best friend, a small but excitable boy with black hair and dark, chocolate-brown eyes who went by the name of Calum Hood.

Ash remembers how they were in McDonalds, sitting on the high stools at the back near the ball pit that the little kids were playing in. Ash remembers feeling tired and a bit sad and just sort of _heavy_ , like there was a lot of weight resting on his shoulders that he simply couldn’t shift.

Ash remembers how he was picking at his chicken nuggets without really enjoying them all that much, and he remembers feeling abruptly bad for that because his mum had given him the money as an extra treat and the _last_ thing Ashton wanted to do was be ungrateful and upset her.

Ash remembers how Luke and Calum were sitting opposite him and eating quietly, clearly having picked up on the strained, tense atmosphere – because, really, the tension was rolling off of Ashton in _waves_ by then – as the pair finished off the last of Calum’s fries together.

Ash remembers frowning then before sitting up straighter and stretching a bit as he forced a smile onto his face and took a long swig of his banana milkshake.

“You guys wanna go to the arcade after this?” Ash remembers asking because there was no _way_ Calum and Luke had had fun today, and he felt bad for it. Ash remembers how he forced himself to grin back at them when they looked suddenly excited then.

“Yeah, that’d be awesome, dude!” Ash remembers Calum crowing excitedly. “My friend Mikey’s going there tonight apparently too. Maybe we can introduce you. You’ll definitely like him. He’s _great_.”

“He poured his drink in my hair last time I saw him,” Luke had objected meekly then and Ash remembers giggling despite himself when Calum fixed Luke with the sort of look you might give someone who was very, _very_ stupid as he patiently explained: “Yes, but that’s only because you cheated and beat him at Guitar Hero.”

“Hey, I did _not_ cheat! I won fair and square!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Quiet, children,” Ash remembers saying jokingly in a lofty voice because he was _allowed_ , okay?! It was one of the perks of being the oldest. He got to tell the little ones what to do, even if, in this case, the little ones _were_ only about two years younger than him.

Ash remembers how Luke snorted with laughter then and got up to tip their rubbish away, and he remembers how Calum swiped the last of the oldest boy’s chicken nuggets, shoved one into Ashton’s mouth when he opened it to order him to _give them back right now_ , and then Ash remembers how Calum ate the other one, and grabbed Ashton and Luke’s hands as he dragged the pair of them out into the early evening.

Ash remembers how the sun was still sinking and the way the sky was streaked with reds and purples as the calls of seagulls could be heard over the noise of the traffic and passersby on the winter evening. (Ash remembers how they were all bundled up in hoodies and scarves as they walked because it had been _cold_ that year, even for July.)

Ash remembers how the arcade was pretty close, only a two minute walk away or so, and he remembers how Calum quoted Star Wars to them the _whole_ time as they crossed carefully at the traffic lights.

Ash remembers how the arcade was uncomfortably warm when they went through the automatic doors, and he remembers how there was a Spice Girls song playing really loudly over the constant chinks and whirs of the games and machines that made him laugh stupidly because Lauren had _loved_ that song. Ash remembers how the air smelt of candyfloss and popcorn, and he remembers how Calum shouted something about “ _finding Mikey_ ” before he disappeared into the crowd.

Ash remembers how Luke gripped Ashton’s hand tightly then because he didn’t really like busy places and this was a _lot_ more packed than Ashton had previously thought, and he remembers feeling abruptly bad and having to shout to be heard as he suggested that they go and wait for Calum and Michael outside instead.

Ash remembers how Luke gratefully agreed and how, two minutes later, they were sitting comfortably on the low stone wall outside and watching the cars pass as the sun finally sank behind the horizon, leaving the vast openness of the skies a bruised purplish-blue instead as a cool breeze blew in off the ocean.

Ash remembers how Luke gave him a warm hug and murmured: “ _Happy birthday, Ash_ ” into his curly hair before he pulled away, and Ash remembers smiling softly because Luke was so _sweet_ sometimes and he couldn’t understand why people were mean to him.

“Thank you, Lukey,” Ash remembers saying before he looked at Luke out of the corner of his eye and grinned. “It’s your birthday really soon though! Are you excited?”

Ash remembers how _he_ was excited for Luke’s birthday because he’d been saving up all of his pocket money for _ages_ for his present and he was really proud of it.

Ash remembers how he had spent _months_ going around markets and tiny shops in the city centre when he could persuade his mum to take him, and he remembers how, during that time, he’d managed to find a whole lot of _really_ cool guitar plectrums with awesome patterns or Luke’s favourite bands on them.

Ash remembers how Luke nodded excitedly in answer to his question and how, just as he opened his mouth to reply, Calum emerged with a loud: “Hey! There you two are! Look who I found!”

Ash remembers how Luke jokingly mumbled: “Oh _joy_ ” and got his hair messed up for his troubles by the stranger, and Ash remembers how he was _still_ grinning stupidly when the fluffy-haired blond boy who was being dragged over to them by an uncharacteristically exuberant Calum came to a stop in front of him.

Ash remembers how the boy smirked slightly – but _not_ in a nasty way, somehow – and he remembers how the boy gave him an appraising look and slapped him a low high five as he said: “Hey, bro. It’s your birthday, right? Hope it’s been fun.”

Ash remembers how he became inexplicably shy then and nodded, giggling a bit when Luke elbowed him in the ribs, and Ash remembers how Calum rolled his eyes and the new boy’s cheeks flushed redder than Ashton’s.

He remembers how Luke and Calum decided they were going next door to buy a milkshake then and Ash remembers how Michael shrugged and dropped down onto the wall beside Ashton before he started telling him about this game he’d just lost _four whole dollars_ in.

Ash remembers giggling again in response and offering to try to help him win some tickets so he’d at least have something to show for it, and Ash remembers how the boy gratefully agreed with an appreciative smile on his face as the wind playfully tousled Ashton’s curls.

He remembers how that was the moment his life had changed forever, because he’d just met Michael Clifford.

(Ashton thinks, in retrospect, that that was probably one of the best days he’s ever had.)

*

Ash remembers how life wasn’t so easy anymore.

He remembers how his mum was working _all_ the time because she was trying to scrape enough money together so that they had enough for food and school uniforms and text books.

Ash remembers how he spent almost _all_ of his time looking after his siblings or working at a fast food joint a few blocks away. He remembers how he didn’t really get to see Luke or Calum or Michael anymore, because he was always so _busy_ , and Ash remembers how that began to eat away at him.

He remembers how he stopped smiling and giggling so much, and tried to be an _adult_ instead, almost a _father_ for Lauren and Harry because they didn’t have one anymore.

Ash remembers how that was _hard_ though because he’d lost _his_ dad too, but he also remembers how he was trying to ignore that part.

He remembers how he took the little ones to visit Anne’s parents one Saturday while their mum was doing an extra shift, and Ash remembers the bone-deep _relief_ he felt when his nan offered to take Harry and Lauren out to the bakery to choose a snack.

Ash remembers how _tired_ and drained he felt as he curled up on the sofa beside his grandpa who had the newspaper open in his lap, although he hadn’t appeared to be reading it.

Ash remembers how the old man ruffled his hair and fixed Ashton with a stern look when the thirteen year old looked up at him sleepily.

“You’re working too hard, Ash,” Ash remembers him saying in a voice that was _so_ familiar that it reminded him of home. Ash remembers chewing on his lip at his grandpa’s words but not disagreeing because they were _true_. His mum had been worrying about it for weeks.

“I have to,” Ash remembers saying with a faint shrug as his grandparents’ pet – an old, black-furred cat who went by the name of Tilly – jumped up onto the sofa and settled down beside Ashton, curling up in a tight little ball and purring loudly as he petted her gently. “The little ones need looking after and mum’s busy.”

Ash remembers when his grandpa ruffled his curls again and the way his forehead creased when Ashton didn’t giggle and try to escape like he would have done in the past.

“When did you become so serious?” his grandpa had asked and Ash remembers biting his lip hard again but refusing to speak. He remembers when his grandpa tapped him beneath the chin to get him to look up and how gentle his words were when he said: “You’re allowed to be upset. You don’t have to be a brick wall, Ash. It’s okay to _feel_.”

Ash remembers having to blink back tears suddenly because those words rang a little too close to home and it _hurt_ to hear them said so bluntly in his grandparents’ living room.

“I’m trying,” Ash remembers whispering as he burrowed his head into the space between his grandpa’s soft jumper-clad arm and the back of the sofa, so that his face was hidden. “I _p-promise_.”

“Don’t give up then,” Ash remembers his grandpa saying softly as he gave his hair one last ruffle.

Ash remembers breaking down in tears then and being embarrassed about it until his grandpa pulled him into a rather uncharacteristic hug, despite Ashton complaining that he was too big to sit on someone’s lap. (He remembers how his grandpa ignored his complaints and how, secretly, Ashton was _glad_ he had because, sometimes, all you needed was a cuddle.)

Ash remembers how the tears rolling down his cheeks as his grandpa smiled at him with kind, watery eyes felt _cleansing_ somehow, like Ashton was standing in the rain and watching the dirt wash away in the puddles spreading beneath his feet.

Ash remembers feeling lighter.

*

Ash remembers how, after that, things got better.

He remembers suspecting privately that his grandparents might well have said something to his mum but, regardless of that (and the embarrassment Ashton felt if that _was_ the case), he had a lot more free time then because his mum had found a job where she could work from home instead.

Ash remembers how he got to meet up with his friends again, and he remembers how _fun_ that was. He remembers the first time he hung out with Luke properly in _months_ – they went for a walk on the beach and collected shells so that Luke could make his mum a pretty bracelet for her birthday – or the first time he saw Calum again – they went to the cinema to watch a Marvel film and Ashton was _so_ excited that he spilt popcorn all over himself, much to Calum’s amusement.

But, most of all, Ash remembers the first time he hung out with Michael again.

He remembers how it had been Sports Relief and Michael had sprayed his hair a startling crimson colour in support for the charity. Ash remembers how wide his eyes went as he waited for Michael outside of the shopping centre and _saw_ him again. He remembers Michael’s almost _self-conscious_ expression before Ashton said: “ _Wow_! Look at your _hair_! It’s awesome!” and Michael gave him a big smile.

Ash remembers how it was so beautiful it took his breath away, and he remembers not being frightened _enough_ of that thought.

Ash remembers how Michael smiled at him even wider then and the way any insecurities or reservations that might have remained fell away from Ashton like water, and he remembers how that day spent with Michael was one of the best he’d had in a long, _long_ time.

*

Ash remembers a sleepover the four of them had when he was maybe fourteen or fifteen.

He remembers how Calum and Michael were already asleep, snuggled up together like puppies, and Ash remembers how a tiny part of him wanted to be jealous, only it couldn’t quite manage it because it was _Ashton’s_ hand that Michael had held as he fell asleep. Nobody else’s.

Ash remembers how Michael was wearing an oversized Green Day t-shirt and cuddling a quilt to his chest as he slept peacefully on the big mattress on the floor, one milky white leg wrapped around the blanket as he slept.

Ash remembers feeling this weird _fondness_ in his chest – totally different to the times he smiled amusedly at Calum and Luke’s antics – and he remembers startling then because the youngest of their group had just sat up and rubbed his eyes.

 _Speak of the devil_.

Ash remembers how Luke groped for his phone in the dark and checked the time, cursing when the light momentarily blinded him. Ash remembers him mumbling something along the lines of: “ _the light of a thousand suns_ ” before he saw Ashton watching him and let out a nervous giggle that quickly trailed away into a sadder sound.

Ash remembers tilting his head to one side and holding one of his arms out – the other was still busy because Michael had suddenly gripped his hand a _lot_ more tightly, like maybe he was dreaming or something – and Ash remembers how Luke crawled carefully over Calum (and paused to pull the blanket over his friend’s shoulder which was just _really_ sweet) and settled down beside Ashton, curling up like a little cat and burrowing close.

“You okay, Lukey? Can’t sleep?” Ash remembers asking as Luke unlocked his phone again, squinting this time so that it didn’t hurt his eyes. Ash remembers seeing a blurry photo of Luke’s dog Molly as the background and he remembers smiling warmly because _that_ was cute too.

“Nah,” Luke had mumbled and Ash remembers being confused for a moment before he recalled his question. “My mind won’t shut up.” Ash remembers how Luke looked embarrassed at his choice of words but Ashton _also_ remembers how that made perfect sense.

He remembers how his eyes drifted over to Michael of their own accord as a wry smile touched his lips faintly, and Ash remembers saying: “Lukey, my boy, you are _not_ the only one.”

Ash remembers how Luke peered at him through the darkness for a moment, so close that their _noses_ were almost touching because, let’s face it, Calum didn’t have the biggest living room in the world and the mattress wasn’t _nearly_ big enough.

He remembers how Luke looked between Ashton and Michael again, and he remembers how the youngest boy’s sky blue eyes suddenly widened like something truly _shocking_ had just occurred to him.

“When are you gonna tell Mikey you _like him-_ like him?” Luke had asked and Ash remembers _almost_ making a comment on how ineloquent that statement was before he saw Luke’s eyes drift almost unconsciously towards Calum, and Ashton had changed his attack plan.

“When _you_ tell Calum you fancy him, I’d expect,” Ashton had said in a tone that was only a _tiny_ bit too sharp and, although Luke made a small offended noise, he didn’t wriggle away.

Ash remembers how the pair were silent for a long time, still just sitting staring at each other, before Luke shrugged half-heartedly and crawled back to his own spot on the bed.

Ash remembers watching him go, his curls a messy cloud around his head, before he lay down too, a little more slowly as Michael rolled over, further away from Calum, and draped himself over Ashton’s arm which was rapidly losing feeling.

Ash remembers wanting to enjoy the closeness of it all but just feeling _shitty_ because he’d upset Luke. Ash remembers how a part of him wanted to just go to sleep – it would certainly have been easier that way and they would probably not even _mention_ it the next day – but Ashton _also_ remembers his grandpa’s words echoed back to him from a few years before:

“ _You’re allowed to be upset. You don’t have to be a brick wall, Ash. It’s okay to_ feel.”

Ash remembers biting his lip in the dark before he stretched his leg out and brushed Luke’s ribs with his foot, since that was the only part of him that he could reach. He remembers how Luke made a little surprised sound as he propped his chin up on one hand, squinting through the dark as he muttered a: “ _What_?” that probably sounded a lot more petulant than he’d planned.

Ash remembers feeling even worse as Luke pulled away from him, the warmth of him suddenly lost. Ash remembers how it had made him feel _icy_ cold, even beneath the blankets.

“I’m sorry,” Ash remembers whispering through the dark. “I just get moody sometimes and I know it’s no excuse and I’m really sorry, Lukey, honest. I just like Mikey. Like… _too_ much, I think… A-and… and you _s-saw_ … and I was scared… but that was no excuse. So I’m sorry.” Ash remembers how Luke was very still as he sat there, completely silent, presumably as he thought over Ashton’s words. The older boy remembers how the hopeful smile slipped from his face as the silence stretched on, awkward and tense now. “Do… d-do you f-forgive me?”

Ash remembers the way Luke’s cold fingers wrapped around his ankle, the touch comforting and gentle, and he remembers the sigh of relief that escaped him when Luke gave his ankle a weirdly reassuring squeeze and promised that, yes, he did forgive him, even if Ashton _was_ an idiot sometimes.

Ash remembers falling asleep soon after that with a smile on his face.

(He does _not_ remember Michael opening his eyes slowly and staring up at the ceiling as the weight of Ashton’s words sank in.)

*

Ash remembers waking up the next morning to find Michael cuddling Calum instead, and how he didn’t seem to want to look at Ashton for too long.

(Ash remembers how much that hurt.)

*

Ash remembers the night of his sixteenth birthday.

He remembers how there were only maybe twenty people there – and sure, maybe they were more Ashton’s _friends_ ’ friends than his own, but it didn’t _matter_ – and he remembers how they were all on the beach.

Ash remembers how there was a bonfire and a few sparklers that Luke had managed to get from _somewhere_ , and Ash remembers how they were playing All Time Low _far_ too loudly from this shitty CD player that someone had found as they gulped down beer like it was going out of fashion.

Ash remembers how people were dancing and laughing and joking with each other, and he remembers how the bonfire was amber against the black night sky, the embers drifting away into nothing as the smoke curled into the salty air like a snake.

Ash remembers how Michael was suddenly standing right in front of him, a bottle of beer clutched tightly in one hand – liquid courage – and a slipknot tank on that was slowly sliding down one shoulder to reveal the pearly white skin that stretched across his collarbone.

Ash remembers dragging his eyes up to Michael’s face and seeing – with a not-insignificant jolt of shock – that Michael’s pupils were blown _huge_ as he licked his lips.

Ash remembers how he _doesn’t_ remember who moved first but how, _suddenly_ , they were kissing like they were never going to see each other again, hands threading through hair and beer bottles tumbling onto sand and lips meeting lips as Michael positively _melted_ into it.

Ash remembers how it was everything he had _ever_ wanted and more, and he remembers how it was all suddenly taken from him in a flash – like one of the sparklers Luke had brought – and he remembers how Michael was standing a few feet away, panting and staring at Ashton with wide eyes as his bruised lips parted in shock.

Ash remembers how Michael gasped out a breathless: “ _F-fuck, Ash. I t-thought I c-could do this_ ” and the way he ran away from Ashton’s touch like it _burnt_.

Ash remembers watching him go with dark eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, more angst and some poorly-written smut, I don't even know anymore!  
> Enjoy!

**2**

Ash remembers how, by the time he was seventeen, his life couldn’t have been _further_ from sunshine and roses. He remembers how it felt like storms and thorns instead, like a hurricane that tore away everything Ashton had ever cared about and left something new in its wake instead, like icy rain was biting through the skin on the inside of his arms instead of the blades he secretly used.

Ash remembers how Luke and Calum were together. He remembers how happy they both were, how _cute_ they looked when they held hands and smiled shyly at each other, so unlike their usual exuberant behaviour that it was almost _shocking_ to see, and Ash remembers trying to be happy for them, trying so hard that it _hurt_.

He remembers how he couldn’t always manage it though because, sometimes, he would catch Luke looking at him sadly from his place beside Calum, and Ash remembers how he would have to look away before Luke saw the fire in his eyes, saw the _rage_ ,because Ashton didn’t need his _pity_.

He remembers thinking that he was _fine_ , thank you very much, and that he didn’t _need_ anyone’s stupid pity. He didn’t _want_ someone to give him a companionable punch on the shoulder and say: “Tough luck, Ash. Don’t give up” in a voice that sounded peculiarly like Ash’s grandpa. Ashton hadn't  _needed_ that.

Ash remembers thinking he didn’t need anything at _all_ actually, didn’t _want_ anything because everything he grew attached to left or changed beyond recognition in the end anyway, and Ash remembers thinking that he must have been impossible to love because his dad had left him, his brother and sister seemed happier with each other, and his own _mother_ barely had time for him anymore, what with her new job.

Hell, even _Michael_ barely talked to him anymore…

Ash remembers feeling empty inside, like everything that made him Ashton was slowly draining away, a rapidly increasing puddle that spread out on the floor like blood.

He remembers seeing it in his mind’s eye, remembers watching it drip through the cracks on the wooden paneling of the floor of Luke’s family’s veranda, and Ash remembers looking up slowly, only to see Michael turning back to Calum and Luke with a sharp, jerky movement that indicated that he hadn’t wanted to be caught staring at the oldest boy.

Ash remembers how his hazel eyes narrowed minutely before a wave of despair rolled over him and he settled back on the swinging chair, content to simply gaze at the birds wheeling in the sky above as Michael looked down at his feet with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and Luke and Calum exchanged worried looks.

Ash remembers trying _so_ hard not to care that it took his breath away.

(He remembers how he cared anyway.)

*

“You don’t want to be here.”

Ash remembers how his statement was as dry as the autumn leaves crackling on the floor. He remembers how the sky above was as grey as the pavement and the gentle rain that was falling as it soaked his hair beneath the beanie he had tugged on.

Ash remembers how the leaves were almost as bright as the almost _violent_ reddish-orange that Michael had dyed his hair, and he remembers how the younger boy’s emerald green eyes were burning with _something_ as he stopped a few metres away from Ashton, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his long black coat.

Ash remembers how the younger boy’s hair was _such_ a bright colour that Michael made everything else look black and white in comparison, and Ash remembers feeling uneasy then because that had hit a little too close to home.

He remembers how Michael’s cherry-red lips parted, as though he was going to disagree, before he closed them again, clearly thinking hard about what he was going to say before he replied: “Cal and Luke thought it might be a good idea for us to… what did they say? Oh yeah… ‘ _Discuss our differences_ ’.”

Ash remembers how Michael removed one of his pale hands from his pocket to make quotation marks in the air, and Ash remembers _hating_ the rush of fondness he felt at Michael’s silly action.

Ash remembers how Michael looked _just_ as uncomfortable as he felt, and Ash remembers how much that _hurt_ then because things had _really_ changed in the four years since that night at the arcade.

(Ash remembers how he’d earned Michael _so_ many tickets that night that the boy had won this weird-looking koala toy from the prize counter. Ash remembers how Michael had given it to him as a birthday present but had jokingly said that he wanted joint custody of it, and Ash remembers how the tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about that then because the toy was still sitting on his bedroom shelf and _everything was different now_.)

Ash remembers how he blinked and they were both standing on the pavement again, too far apart and yet not far _enough_ because Ashton couldn’t _stand_ this horrible _limbo_ that they had found themselves in. He remembers how Michael was standing the same distance from him as he had done that night on the beach, and Ash remembers something icy unfurling in his chest then.

“So… shall we…?” Ash remembers Michael asking awkwardly, his eyes the faintest bit concerned as Ashton swallowed past the lump in his throat and fought to calm himself as he led the way into the small coffee shop so that they could order their drinks, out of the rain.

Ash remembers how uncomfortable it felt as they stood side by side in stony silence, and how the tension only slightly lessened when they sat themselves down at one of the metal bistro tables outside in the quiet, morning air because the rain had stopped by then and the tables had been under cover.

Ash remembers how he was wearing maroon-coloured fingerless gloves because it was a cold autumnal day and the wind blowing in off the sea was cold. He remembers how the trees were rustling as a breeze danced through the leaves, and Ash remembers how the sip he had taken of his tea burnt his tongue painfully.

He remembers how Michael seemed content to sit in silence as he sipped his coffee slowly, and Ash remembers how the tea warmed him enough that he loosened his scarf and set it on the table in front of him. He remembers how Michael stretched out both arms like they were falling asleep before he settled once more and held Ashton’s gaze again, his eyes a flash of emerald fire against a grey, _grey_ sky.

Ash remembers the shocked hiss that escaped Michael when he happened to glance down and saw the bruise discolouring the tanned skin of Ashton’s jaw. Ash remembers how it _ached_ then, almost like he could _feel_ Michael’s eyes resting on it, and Ash remembers looking at Michael blankly and saying: “It’s not good if a guy likes another guy in my neighborhood. People don’t like it.”

Ash remembers how Michael looked even _more_ worried then, but he _also_ remembers the faint echoes of _fear_ shining in the boy’s emerald eyes, like that had only _confirmed_ whatever it was that Michael had been panicking about.

“Good thing I’m s-straight then, isn’t it?”

Ash remembers the kiss, and he remembers how he _scoffed_ at that, not quietly enough, and the way Michael got defensive then, in that way he only ever did when something hit a little too close to the mark.

“You’re scared,” Ash remembers breathing, cutting through whatever tirade Michael had been about to go off on because Ashton was simply _too_ tired to care anymore. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. I was scared too. Still _am_.”

Ash remembers how he didn’t have to explain what he was talking about for Michael to _know_ , and he remembers how Michael tried to scoff too but how it came out sounding more like a whimper as he mumbled: “I don’t _get_ scared.”

“You don’t have to be a brick wall, Mikey. You’re allowed to _feel_ ,” Ash remembers promising and the way his heart sped up at using Michael’s nickname again because it felt like pouring lemon juice into paper cuts or when sea water got into any grazes he might have after he waded in the sea some evenings when simply walking across the sand wasn’t enough.

Ash remembers how Michael seemed to fold in on himself as he slumped forwards in the uncomfortable metal chair, suddenly looking half his previous size, before he sat up suddenly, his eyes surprisingly wet as he folded his arms on the cold tabletop and leant forwards, resting his chin on them.

“Why did you even like me?” Ash remembers Michael asking in a small voice, his green eyes wide and so fucking _pretty_ that he hurt to look at.

“You’re such an arsehole, Michael, _fuck_ ,” Ash remembers spitting out defensively, his hands balling up into fists because this wasn’t _fair_.

Because Ashton didn’t see how he was supposed to explain that it was because he knew that Michael only liked eating ham and cheese toasties when the crusts were cut off or how he loved the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs near his house.

It was because Michael’s room smelt all gross and musty after he stayed in there _all_ weekend just playing video games in his boxers and these weird slipper socks because: “ _my feet get cold sometimes, Ash, shut your face_ ”. It was because Michael’s morning voice sounded all rumbly, like thunder crashing far away, and because he’d always liked Nine most out of all of the doctors on Doctor Who.

It was because Michael had a poster of a kitten on his bedroom wall in among all of the band posters that Ashton’s sister Lauren had given him once, and it was because Ash had seen how _innocent_ Michael looked when he slept and he’d heard his delighted laughter when something exciting happened and _sometimes_ Michael had sweater paws when his jumpers were too big for him (‘ _like he does today_ ,’ Ash remembers a wistful little voice piping up then).

It was because Ashton had woken up at a sleepover once with Michael pressed up close behind him somehow, even though the younger boy had fallen asleep on the other side of the mattress, and Ash remembers how Michael was  _hard_ and how mortified he was about it, and Ash remembers how he promised him that it didn’t matter as Michael buried his face in Ashton’s neck, ashamed. (Ash remembers trying to forget about that though, because it _really_ wasn't helping anything.)

It was because Ashton _knew_ Michael… except he couldn’t have known him very _well_ or they wouldn’t have had this problem in the first place.

Ash remembers how his conflicted emotions must have shown on his face because Michael was looking up at him with wide eyes, his chin still resting on his folded arms.

“No. I _mean_ it, Ash,” Ash remembers Michael saying when Ashton pressed his lips together hard, his hazel eyes shining with tears again because they were fucking _traitors_. “Why _did_ you like me?” Ash remembers how he gave Michael another dead-eyed look then and the younger boy flinched as something else occurred to him. “ _O-okay…_ ” Ash remembers Michael correcting himself in a shaky voice. “Why do you _s-still_ like me?”

Ash remembers how the week-old bruise on his jaw gave another throb and his eyes stung, and Ashton had stopped caring.

 _In for a penny, in for a pound_.

“It’s a little bit _more_ than just  _like_ actually.”

Ash remembers how Michael’s face drained of colour until he was paler than the snow Ashton had seen in movies, his complexion utterly powder-white. He remembers how Michael inhaled shakily and just _stared_ at Ashton with wide, frightened green eyes, and Ash remembers kind of wanting to walk in front of a bus or something in that moment because it felt like things were never going to be okay again.

“I kissed you on the beach,” Michael had blurted suddenly, his voice several octaves higher than usual with stress, and Ash remembers looking down at him with wide eyes.

“You did,” he remembers saying slowly, warming his hands on his almost-empty mug of tea. “Why?”

“Calum and Luke asked me to invite you to come round to Cal’s at the weekend so we can all get lunch,” Ash remembers Michael babbling instead, his eyes wide with panic and his voice muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of his arm.

“ _Why_ did you kiss me, Mikey?!” Ash remembers asking, raising his voice a little because Michael had started this conversation and now he wasn’t even listening and it wasn’t _fair_!

“I c-can’t – I don’t w-want to –”

“ _MICHAEL_!” Ashton had shouted and he remembers drawing in a shaky breath when Michael’s head jerked up so that he could regard Ashton with wild green eyes. “Why did you kiss me on the beach?” the older boy had asked in a much softer voice, and Ash remembers when Michael fell apart in front of him.

“Because I _l-loved_ you,” Ash remembers Michael sobbing. “I _s-still_ l-love you and… and it’s _t-terrifying_. And… and I _s-still_ can’t c-cope with… with _t-this_!”

Ash remembers how he caught Michael’s hand as the younger boy tried to escape again, and Ash remembers how Michael gripped it back almost unconsciously as he watched Ashton rise slowly, loop his scarf around his neck once to hide the bruise, and lead them across the road and into the park on the other side.

Ash remembers how Michael’s breathing seemed to be coming in _pants_ as the pair walked side by side, their hands still clasped tightly because neither of them really wanted to let go.

Ash remembers when Michael’s legs began to wobble beneath him and how Ashton had to guide him to sit down on a bench before he fell, and Ash remembers how he was feeling much the same.

Ash remembers how Michael slumped down beside him and rested his head on Ashton’s shoulder, almost without meaning to, and Ash remembers how he put his arm hesitantly around Michael’s shoulders and simply held him there.

“If it makes it any easier,” he remembers saying to Michael softly. “I love you too.”

“It _d-doesn’t_ ,” Michael had said, but Ash remembers how there was the _faintest_ curl to Michael’s lips as he turned and pressed his face into the warm skin of Ashton’s neck where his scarf had slipped a little.

“Do you know who it was?” Ash remembers Michael asking suddenly and, when Ashton seemed confused, the younger boy had elaborated. “The people who… you know… _hurt_ you for… for liking _g-guys_ …?”

“Kind of… not really, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter though. They won’t be doing it again.”

“Oh god, you didn’t _kill_ them, did you?” Ash remembers Michael blurting stupidly, and the older boy had rolled his eyes as Michael looked abruptly mortified again.

“What the _fuck_ , Mike?! _No_! How can you even _ask_ me that? I called the police!” Ash remembers giving Michael a wide-eyed look before he wilted slightly, chewing on his bottom lip without thinking. “It’s like you don’t even _know_ me.” The older boy remembers how he was only half joking.

“You’re right.”

Ash remembers how Michael’s words _hurt_ him thenbecause it was true. They _didn’t_ know each other anymore and yet, _somehow_ , they were still in _love_ with each other,or at least with the _idea_ of each other.

“Maybe we should start over,” Michael had said and Ash remembers the way the younger boy was blushing as Ashton looked up sharply, his hazel eyes wide and his lips parted as he looked at Michael.

“What do you…?”

Ash remembers how Michael sat up a bit straighter then and took a deep, calming breath before he smiled shyly at Ashton, ducking his head a little so that his fringe fell forwards to hide his face.

“My name’s Michael. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

Ash remembers gaping at him wordlessly for several long moments before a smile lit up his face like a kid on Christmas morning, and the hollowness in his chest suddenly didn’t seem so _empty_ anymore.

“My name’s Ashton, you absolute  _goof_ ,” Ash had said and he remembers how he was smiling so hard that it had felt like the bruise on his face was ten times worse as it gave a throb of protest, but Ash remembers how he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Ash remembers how he reached out to shake Michael’s hand – because really, if they were going to mess around like this then Ashton was going to do it _properly_ , damnit, because he hadn’t gone to drama classes at school for nothing, thank you _very_ much – and the small squeak of surprise that escaped him when Michael tugged him forwards by the hand and kissed him.

Ash remembers how Michael pulled away almost at once, apparently stunned at his own daring, but how he _didn’t run away_. Ash remembers how that meant everything in the world to him in that moment.

He remembers how he leant in towards Michael more slowly, closing the gap between them as their lips brushed together, gently this time and with none of the force of earlier. Ash remembers how the angle was better and the way Michael’s mouth tasted a little like sugar from the sweetener he had put in his coffee, and Ash remembers how their lips were both a tiny bit chapped because of the cold wind and the way his jaw was aching from the bruise, and Ash remembers Michael’s hand slipping up to cup his uninjured cheek gently as he deepened the kiss.

Ash remembers thinking that everything was just sort of _perfect_ then, and he remembers how Michael looked dazed as he drew back, his eyes a little glazed and his red lips slightly parted, just _begging_ to be kissed again.

Ash remembers how his next words had escaped him before he could stop them, and he remembers how it didn’t matter in the slightest, because the slow smile that spread across Michael’s face like treacle then was worth everything Ashton had in the world.

“ _That_ should have been our first kiss.”

*

Ash remembers the relief he felt when his family were cool with his and Michael’s relationship, and the reaction they had received when the pair of them had told Luke and Calum. (Luke had burst into tears and Calum’s purposefully gruff, ‘ _I’m too manly to cry_ ’ expression had melted quickly into a jubilant smile, much to Ashton and Michael’s delight.)

Ash remembers how his mum had pulled him into a tight hug and told him how happy she was for him, especially after the terrifying attack of a week or so previously, and Ash remembers how Lauren gave him a timid hug and Harry smiled at him sheepishly before the two of them went off to play somewhere together again, and sure, maybe Ashton had kind of missed being young enough to do that but it didn’t _hurt_ him so much anymore.

He remembers thinking vaguely that Michael had somehow managed to mellow him.

His mood swings weren’t so _sudden_ anymore and he was always a lot more mild after he had been with Michael. (Calum had liked to say that this was because Michael had sucked all of Ashton’s emotions out through his dick but Ashton didn’t think he was allowed to comment on that if the flaming red of Michael and Luke’s cheeks was anything to go by.)

Ash remembers how Michael still had little wobbles _sometimes_ , especially whenever Ashton suggested Michael coming out to his parents, but even those occasions had lessened now because Ashton had stopped bringing it up.

(Ash remembers his surprise, just under a month later, when Michael had decided to come out.)

*

“ _God, y-you’re so h-hot, Mikey_.”

Ash remembers how pathetically _desperate_ he sounded as his Nirvana singlet fell to the floor along with Michael’s plaid shirt and vest. Ash remembers the little, pleased way Michael hummed into the kiss when he heard Ashton’s words and the way he allowed himself to bask in them for a few moments before he pulled back, gave Ash a slight smirk and said: “Jeans. Off. _Now_.”

Ash remembers how the rest of their clothes landed on the carpet, and how Michael’s lips were on his again and his tongue was stroking across Ash's and, _somehow_ , his hand had found its way onto Ashton's dick with _just_ enough pressure that it made his knees want to buckle.

“ _F-fuck_ ,” Ash remembers gasping out as Michael worked his hand up and down as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to Ash’s neck. Ash remembers how he was _so_ turned on that he could already feel the heat coiling in his stomach, much to his slight agitation – because really, he had wanted this to _last_ but it clearly wasn’t going to this time – and Ash remembers how Michael sucked a love bite into the older boy’s neck as he came.

Ash remembers how he would have been quite content to float off into a doze then before Michael rocked his hips pleadingly against Ashton’s thigh in a decidedly unsubtle manner.

Ash remembers rolling them over so that he was straddling Michael with his bare bum pressing down over Michael’s erection. Ash remembers how satisfying it was when Michael’s eyes rolled back into his head as Ash rocked slowly, teasingly.

“T-this is _s-staggeringly_ g-gay,” Ashton remembers Michael mumbling, his tone almost _delirious_ as he started to thrust his hips up to meet Ashton’s. “And l-like… unsurprisingly… I d-do not c-care. L-like... in the _s-slightest_.”

Ashton remembers the surprise he felt then because, while it wasn’t _unheard_ of for Michael to say something random or weird during sex, he didn’t usually point out something so _obvious_. Ash remembers how it had actually felt kind of _refreshing_ as he said encouragingly: “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” as he sped up his movements, Michael’s leaking dick sliding across Ashton’s hot skin as the younger boy moaned softly.

“ _S-so_ g-good,” Ashton remembers Michael slurring, and Ashton remembers how he didn’t know if Michael was answering his question or not, at least until the younger boy continued with: “G-gonna c-come out I t-think. S-soon.”

Ash remembers how he stilled then, so shocked that he forgot to keep going, and he remembers how Michael gave this desperate little whine and tossed his head back into the pillows, cursing softly and mumbling something that sounded a lot like: “ _I was so f-fucking c-close, you d-dick_ ” and Ash remembers how he responded with: “I’ll suck _your_ dick” because he had wanted a comeback and, honestly, he kind of _did_ want to.

Ash remembers how Michael’s emerald eyes were full of fire as his cheeks flushed as ruby as his lips when he gazed up at Ashton, and Ash remembers whispering: “I’m so proud of you, little one” before he slid down, down, _down_ and made Michael stop thinking about coming out altogether.

(Ash remembers how both of them needn’t have worried though because Michael’s parents were almost as relaxed about it as _Ash’s_ family had been.)

*

Ash remembers how he had felt sad the day that Michael sang for him, except it wasn’t the _usual_ sort of sad that he had felt during the years when Michael didn’t want him. _This_ sadness had an odd, almost _melancholic_ feel to it, like Ash had wasted too much time.

He remembers how it was a grey day, the sky a dull off-white as the clouds covered the blue like a blanket, and Ash remembers how tired he felt, _heavy_ almost, like all of his bones were made of lead.

Ash remembers how they were lying on Michael’s bed in companionable silence and the way the younger boy was tracing shapes that felt a lot like flowers and hearts gently into the soft skin of Ash’s arm as he snuggled up behind him.

Ash remembers how they were both undoubtedly looking at the scars that marred the skin there, faded but still painful-looking, even a year later. Ash remembers how Michael sniffed and pressed a small kiss to the warm skin at the back of Ash’s neck, leaving his lips resting there gently as he was wont to do sometimes while he gathered his thoughts.

“I’m so glad you don’t do that anymore,” Ash remembers Michael whispering, and Ash remembers how he closed his eyes as the old memories threatened to rise up. “I… you never said… _why_ you stopped… because I know it was before we… you know… so I wondered…”

Ash remembers thinking that he supposed that made sense and that maybe he _did_ owe Michael an explanation. Relationships were nothing without honesty, after all.

“Luke told Cal,” Ash remembers replying after a long moment, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And… and Cal s-said: ‘ _It’s not just hurting you. It’s hurting everyone you love. Just imagine, when you go to cut, that you’re cutting them. Would you still do it?’_ Mikey, how could I even _consider_ cutting after he’d said that?”

Ash remembers rolling over onto his back and glancing at Michael’s sad, thoughtful expression before Ash looked away again, fixing his gaze on their linked hands instead.

“And…” Ash remembers swallowing past the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “When my dad left my mum, I… I promised that _no one_ was going to hurt her ever again. And… and by doing what I was doing…” Ash remembers how, suddenly, he couldn’t say it anymore. “I _was_ hurting her… and that wasn’t okay.”

“But you stopped,” Ash remembers Michael saying comfortingly, his lips a gentle warmth on Ash’s forehead. “And we’re all _so_ proud for you, Ash. I promise. Like, I don’t even have _words_ for how proud I am for you… and… and I have something for you.”

“You d-do?” Ash hiccupped, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper and blinking up at Michael as his boyfriend had scrambled up from the bed and pulled his guitar out of its case, his timid smile bashful.

“Uh-huh,” Michael had replied in the affirmative before sitting down on the swivel chair at his desk and rummaging around in his desk drawer for a notebook which he had promptly opened and set on the tabletop. Ash remembers how Michael looked embarrassed but determined as he glanced up at Ashton through his golden eyelashes.

“I wrote a song for you,” he had stammered, tuning his guitar as he spoke so that he would have somewhere else to look. “I… uh… called it ‘ _Everything I Didn’t Say_ ’. It… like, it’s not _one hundred_ per cent relevant anymore but… it’s still for you.”

“Please let me hear it,” Ash remembers whispering and, with one final nervous glance up at him, Michael had begun to play.

Ash remembers how he was crying by the end of the first verse and how Michael’s eyes looked a little wet too, and Ash remembers how, when Michael reached the chorus, a sob escaped the older boy before he could stop it.

“ _Taking every breath away, With all of the mistakes I've made, From all the letters that I've saved. This is everything I didn't say. I wish I could've made you stay, And I'm the only one to blame. I know that it's a little too late. This is everything I didn't say_.”

Ash remembers sitting up shakily on the bed and listening to the rest of the song in a distinctly watery silence. He remembers how the song slowly faded into silence as Michael let the last whole note ring out in the quiet as his fingers finally left the guitar frets, flexing slightly to get some feeling back in them.

“That was beautiful, little one,” Ash remembers whispering in a hollow sort of voice, staring at Michael with wide eyes before the younger boy carefully returned the guitar to its case and climbed back onto the bed.

Ash remembers how their lips met and his fingers curled into Michael’s currently-pink hair. He remembers how everything about Michael was warm and soft and comforting, and Ash remembers murmuring that Michael’s hair was the colour of a rose.

Ash remembers how Michael’s cheeks had flushed scarlet then as he pressed a kiss to the end of Ashton’s nose and called him his “little flower” which was _so_ sweet that Ash actually hadn’t been able to speak for a moment, so Michael had taken the opportunity to kiss him again.

“I _really_ love you,” Ash remembers whispering against Michael’s full lips and he remembers the way they stretched against his own as Michael smiled before he replied: “That’s good, Ashy, because I _really_ love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry about this fic.  
> Like seriously, I feel like it's jumping around all over the place and doesn't really make any sense, although hopefully that's just me.  
> Please leave comments and kudos to let me know what you thought!  
> I'm writing the third and final update as we speak and, warning, it is probably one of the angstiest things I'll ever write (although maybe that will change... maybe...)  
> Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the tag 'It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better' comes into play.  
> I... am _really_ sorry for how angsty this part is. (And for how godamn fluffy it is at the end. Y'all are gonna need to brush your teeth cos it's literally tooth-rotting.)  
>  Thank you for sticking around!  
> Enjoy!

**3**

Ash remembers how, for the next few years, everything was good.

He remembers how he and Michael had left school and how his boyfriend had got a job in the music shop downtown where he taught little kids to play the guitar. Ash remembers how he was working in an office in the city and how it was so nice and calm in there, _exactly_ what he needed to stay mellow and relaxed.

Ash remembers how, the very moment they were able, Luke and Calum had got engaged.

Ash remembers how Lauren was doing well at secondary school and Harry was captain of his school’s football team, and Ash remembers how his mum took the bus over to his and Michael’s place to have coffee with them almost _every_ weekend, sometimes even with her new boyfriend.

Ash remembers how he and Michael were living in this tiny little flat in downtown Sydney, cheap only because it was situated above the music shop the younger man worked in which meant that they didn’t get much peace and quiet in the day.

Ash remembers how, despite this, the pair of them loved it because it was _theirs_ and it was safe and they were happy.

*

Ash remembers when the flat was no longer a safe place to be.

He remembers how he came home from work late one night because he’d stayed to help one of his colleagues learn to properly use one of their newer computer systems. Ash remembers how the winter sky was already dark because it was July now and he remembers how, the closer he got to the door that led up to their flat, the more he squinted because there was _something_ sprayed on the white paint of their door in black but Ash hadn’t been able to make out what it said until he was almost right in front of it.

**_FAG_ **

Ash remembers how he shakily pushed at the door – it was already _open_ – and how a burst of adrenaline hit him as he bolted for the stairs, his blood ice in his veins as he staggered up, continuing on all fours when his legs grew too shaky and his heart pounded loudly, _deafeningly_ , in his ears because _Mikey had been alone up there_ and this was _bad, bad, bad_.

Ash remembers when he found their upstairs door already open, slammed hard enough against the wall that there was a mark in the plaster, and he remembers when his work bag slipped through numb fingers and landed on the floor of the hallway.

Ash remembers a lot of things about that night.

He remembers how the living room was in disarray and how there was broken china on the carpet, like someone had knocked a mug over. Ash remembers how the curtains were pulled messily shut and one of their armchairs was lying on its side. He remembers how there was an unfamiliar smell in the room – _coppery_ almost – and Ash remembers the moment he completely froze.

He remembers when movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn and he remembers how he stiffened when he saw his boyfriend.

He remembers how Michael was lying on his stomach, slumped forwards as he tried to drag himself towards Ashton. Ash remembers how Michael fell forwards onto the carpet and stopped moving, and Ash remembers when he staggered forwards and dropped down onto the ground beside Michael, his hands fluttering ineffectually as Michael managed to roll over to look up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“M-Mikey, little one, w-what did they _d-do_ to y-you?” Ash remembers gasping out quickly, too panicked to speak slowly and too stunned to sob like he wanted to do.

Ash remembers how Michael’s bottom lip was split and bleeding everywhere and how one of his eyes was rapidly swelling shut. He remembers how one of Michael’s wrists was dangling at an odd angle and his knuckles were torn and bleeding, like he’d tried fighting back and failed. (Ash remembers how the tears that had been stinging his eyes boiled over then, but he remembers how he forced himself to sob _silently_ because he didn’t want to distress Michael anymore than he already was.)

Ash remembers how Michael’s breathing sounded odd – almost _wet_ – and Ash remembers how much he panicked when he realised that it had to be a broken rib puncturing his _lung_ which, if Ash wasn’t very much mistaken, could be _fatal_.

‘ _I need to be a brick wall_ ,’ Ash remembers thinking desperately. ‘ _I need to keep a clear head because if I don’t, Mike’s going to die and it’ll be my fault._ ’

Ash remembers how he stroked Michael’s dyed brown hair gently away from his forehead as he struggled in the pocket of his work trousers for his mobile. Ash remembers how his hands were shaking so hard that it took him a moment to even dial the number but he remembers how, thankfully, the composed voice on the other end of the line did a little to calm him as he frantically gave them their address.

Ash doesn’t remember much about that phone call but he _does_ remember how the woman at the other end told him to make sure Michael stayed awake.

Ash remembers how he held onto that as the call ended and they waited for the ambulance. He remembers how Michael’s golden eyelashes were spiky with tears as they fluttered shut and Ash remembers how he squeezed Michael’s good hand – or should that be _better_ since they both looked awful? – in an effort to keep him awake.

“S-stay w-with me, M-Mikey. _P-please_ , l-little one,” Ash remembers saying desperately, imploringly, his voice almost a _croak_ as he fought to speak past the lump in his throat.

Ash remembers when Michael’s emerald eyes fluttered open and how _glassy_ they were, like he was already looking at something Ashton couldn’t see.

He remembers how Michael breathed out a choked-sounding: “ _S-sorry, l-little f-flower_ ” before his eyes slid shut again, and Ash remembers how he was _still_ screaming for Michael to wake up when he heard sirens in the distance.

*

Ash remembers how the smell of the hospital was making him feel sick.

He remembers how the plastic chairs were hard and uncomfortable, a mint green colour that matched the chipped paint on the walls around him, and Ash remembers how he put his head in his hands and tried to keep himself from falling apart as he waited for news.

Ash remembers how Luke and Calum were sitting on either side of him, having turned up as soon as Ash had called them. He remembers how Calum was rubbing his back soothingly and Luke was holding his hand tightly, like he’d done at the cinema on the day they first met.

Ash remembers how that felt like a million years ago now.

“He’ll be okay, Ash. He’ll wake up. I _promise_ ,” Ash remembers Calum telling him in a fierce little voice that sounded a lot like he was trying to convince _himself_ too.

Ash remembers how he started crying then and how he turned his head to press his face into Luke’s neck as the younger man held him close. He remembers how Calum kept up a litany of comforting words that ceased to mean anything to Ash.

He remembers how time seemed to _stop_.

*

Ash remembers when Michael woke up.

He remembers how the hospital room was light and airy, the walls white and the winter sun streaming in through a gap in the blinds. Ash remembers the crisp sheets and Michael’s bruised hand resting limply on the blankets. Ash remembers how he traced the back of it lightly with his fingertips but how he didn’t actually take it because he was too scared of hurting his boyfriend.

Ash remembers how Michael’s face was tired and pale, and how he was on too much pain medication to feel shaken up about what he had suffered through just yet.

Ash remembers how Luke and Calum had lingered just long enough to greet Michael and tell him how happy they were to see him awake, and then they had left the pair alone.

Ash remembers how he was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs beside Michael’s bed, still wearing his (now blood-stained) work clothes from the day before with his hair a flyaway mess from the number of times he had raked his fingers through it while Michael was in theatre.

Ash remembers how the younger man was looking at him sleepily for a moment before his lips twitched and he murmured: “Your hair looks like a dandelion.”

Ash remembers giggling slightly hysterically then and feeling like his heart was going to explode because of all the _love_ he felt when Michael’s face crinkled up as he tried to beam at Ashton (which had had disastrous consequences, if Ash remembers correctly, because of his split lip).

Ash remembers how he said: “You’re such a goof, Mikey” in this disgustingly fond voice before he leant forwards and brushed his lips gently over Michael’s sore knuckles, careful not to dislodge the drip. He remembers how Michael smiled sleepily even as his eyes fluttered shut again, and Ash remembers how there was no panic this time, only relief.

He remembers how he brushed Michael’s dark hair gently off his bruised face as Michael’s breathing became slow and even.

Ash remembers sitting back down in the chair and dropping his head into his hands again, except, this time, there was no despair.

He remembers thinking that maybe things would be okay after all.

(Ash remembers how _wrong_ he was.)

*

Ash remembers how the months following the attack were _hard_.

He remembers how Michael couldn’t stand to be on his own anymore, not even for a few _minutes_ , and Ash remembers how that made going to work difficult.

Ash remembers how Calum had had to take Michael back to his and Luke’s place for coffee while Ash and Luke went out to view some possible places that the older pair of their group might be able to move into. (Ash remembers how he didn’t blame Michael in the _slightest_ for not being able to go back to their flat above the music shop, but he _does_ remember how he felt guilty for imposing on Calum and Luke, even though the pair had willingly offered them their spare room.)

Ash remembers how Michael couldn’t sleep properly anymore. He remembers how Michael either spent the night wrapped around Ashton and refusing to let go so that he felt safer, or how he thrashed around, screaming and sweating and trembling as he _remembered_ and Ash was powerless to help.

Ash remembers one night where it was _particularly_ bad that Michael’s fist snapped out and caught Ash’s face as he attempted to comfort Michael. He remembers how the younger man woke up when he heard Ash’s cry of pain, and the shocked voices of Calum and Luke as they hurried towards the source of the noise at two in the morning.

Ash remembers how he didn’t blame Michael for his black eye because it wasn’t his _fault_. He remembers thinking that Michael was just afraid and panicked and stressed, and Ash remembers being angry with himself because he couldn’t make Michael feel better.

Ash remembers how Michael was sobbing and gasping out apologies, even as he backed away from all of them into the corner of the room, and Ash remembers how the night ended with him, Luke and Calum all tugging the big duvet off of the bed and cuddling up close to Michael on the bedroom floor. Ash remembers how it was both _startlingly_ similar to the sleepovers they had shared as children, and yet it couldn’t have been _more_ different.

Ash remembers how it made his heart hurt.

*

Ash remembers how, as time went by, Michael only got worse.

He remembers how Michael could barely concentrate on anything anymore, and how the younger man always seemed to isolate himself _mentally_ from his three best friends, even as he clung to them like a frightened child. Ash remembers how the guilt and the shame would overwhelm Michael without warning, and how the anger and irritation he felt made Ash’s old mood swings look like _nothing_.

Ash remembers how Michael would flinch sometimes, like he could feel them hurting him again, and Ash remembers how he had to hold Michael then and press kisses to the top of his head because Michael wouldn’t let him do anything else anymore.

Ash remembers how his boyfriend had stopped smiling.

He remembers how Michael was always so _negative_ with himself, recalls him questioning _why_ it had happened to him and whether he could have prevented it. Ash remembers the time Michael cried himself to sleep after he had moved onto the ‘ _What Ifs_ ’ instead and had imagined Ashton in the situation in his place.

Ash remembers feeling _sickened_ with himself for being _relieved_ that Michael had passed out that night, but he also remembers knowing that it was for the best because, finally, Michael had _stopped crying_.

Ash remembers how he lay on his back beside Michael, one arm wrapped gently around the younger man’s waist as he stared up at the ceiling. He remembers how their bedroom door was open and the landing light was on (because Michael couldn’t sleep without that) and Ash remembers how Luke and Calum crept up the stairs on their way to bed and lingered in the doorway, smiling sadly at Ashton before they went into their own room and shut the door.

Ash remembers when the bitter tears in his eyes welled over, even as he held Michael closer, because this _wasn’t_ Michael’s fault, damnit, and Ashton _needed_ to remember that.

Ash remembers how, despite this, he still felt like crap as Michael burrowed sleepily into his side, his lips barely brushing Ashton’s neck in a way that they _never_ did when he was awake.

Ash remembers when he broke down and sobbed.

*

Ash remembers one of the most upsetting days of his life with crystal-clear clarity.

He remembers how he had been sitting at his desk at work, surreptitiously reading the text updates Calum had sent him regarding Michael as he worked from home and watched over his best friend, and Ash remembers being agitated and feeling almost as anxious as _Michael_ looked most days because the older man just had the feeling that _Something_ – with a capital S – was going to happen.

He remembers how he wasn’t wrong, and that the news came in the form of a text from Luke.

**[From LUKEY] Received at 15:45**

**I just got home and I don’t wanna panic you but you need to get here right now. Mike needs you and I don’t think me or Cal are gonna cut it this time. x**

Ash remembers how his manager took one look at his face and let him go because, thankfully, she had known the situation, and Ash remembers how he had never been more grateful for that as he hurriedly replied, ran out of the office, threw his bag into the backseat of his car, and hit the gas.

Ash remembers how his pulse was thundering in his veins the whole way back to Calum and Luke’s and, when he pulled up in their driveway, his heart had been in his _throat_ when Luke opened the door and ran out to meet him, his face ashen.

“You’ve gotta help him, Ash,” Luke had gasped as he reached him, breathless and apparently panic-stricken. “Someone knocked on the door apparently and Cal went to answer it. We d-don’t know what happened but something must’ve startled Mikey or something and…” Ash remembers how Luke just shook his head for a moment, his face pale. “You better come see.”

Ash remembers how he followed Luke slowly into the house, his palms sweating and his eyes darting everywhere as he had tried to work out what Luke was _talking_ about.

Ash remembers when he saw.

He remembers how Calum was crouched down in the hallway, his hands outstretched like he was trying to calm a frightened animal, his eyes pleading as he glanced over at Ash and silently mouthed: “ _Help me_ ”.

Ash remembers how Luke gave him a tiny, gentle push and Ashton had stumbled forwards, shooting Calum a wide-eyed look as the dark-haired man gently said: “Ashton is here now, Mikey, so it’s all gonna be okay now,” seemingly to a cupboard which had only confused Ash _more_.

Ash remembers how he wasn’t convinced that was the truth, even as his curiosity was piqued.

He remembers how he knelt down where Calum had been crouching and felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He remembers how Michael was curled up in a little ball in the corner of the cupboard under the stairs, his lip bitten bloody and his eyes wild as they flickered to Ashton and away again.

Ash remembers how Michael was holding what looked like a _kitchen knife_ in his shaking hands as he rocked slowly, muttering something under his breath that went along the lines of: “ _… trying to break in… can’t hurt me now… safe in here…_ ”

Ash remembers the broken sob he heard emanating from Luke and the way Michael panicked at the sound, and Ash remembers the relief he felt when Calum gently ushered Luke into the living room and mouthed: “ _Do you want me to call someone_?” Ash remembers how he shook his head and replied with: “ _Not yet. Let me try first_.”

Ash remembers how there was a tiny part of him that was _really_ freaking out because he _so_ hadn’t been prepared for this and he had felt like he was out of his depth then, but Ash _also_ remembers how a small, much-calmer voice in his head that sounded a lot like his grandpa piped up with: ‘ _But it’s only Michael. You_ love _Michael. Help him._ ’

Ash remembers how he did just that.

He remembers how he edged into the tiny cupboard and pressed his back against the wall beside Michael so that they were both looking out of the door. Ash remembers how he could see a small section of Luke and Calum’s gleaming kitchen through the gap but that mostly Michael was just staring at the wall, his eyes unfocused like he was seeing something else.

“What are we doing in the cupboard, little one?” Ash remembers asking in a soft, gentle voice, making sure he kept an eye on the knife still clutched tightly in Michael’s shaking hands as the younger man mouthed wordlessly, his red lips forming an _O_ of surprise.

“ _I t-thought t-there w-was s-someone else in the h-house again_ ,” Ash remembers Michael whispering, his eyes locked on Ashton’s face now, emerald on hazel. “ _T-thought they w-were going to h-hurt us_.”

Ash remembers how his heart went out for Michael, even as his worry increased when Michael suddenly gripped the knife tighter again, a frightened look on his face.

“There’s no one else here, Mikey,” Ash remembers whispering as he shifted until Michael was pressed up, warm and comforting, against his side. Ash remembers how Michael didn’t flinch away. “Just me and you and Cal and Lukey. No one else.”

Ash remembers how Michael looked like he hardly dared to believe it. “N-no one else? _R-really?_ ”

Ash remembers how he went against his instincts and fought to ignore the knife for a moment as he moved to kneel in front of Michael and cupped his tear-stained face gently between both of his hands.

“No one else,” Ash remembers promising solemnly and the way Michael’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment in relief. Ash remembers dropping one of his hands onto Michael’s shoulder gently instead and holding the other one out in front of him as he softly said: “Give me the knife, Mikey. Please. You don’t need it and no one’s going to hurt you here. You’re _safe_.”

Ash remembers how the knife slipped through Michael’s numb fingers and how Ash caught it before it could do any damage, and he remembers when Michael slumped forwards and sobbed into Ash’s neck as the older man held him close, rocking him soothingly.

“It’s gonna be okay, little one, I promise,” Ash remembers saying thickly as he carded his fingers gently through Michael’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp in the way that Ashton _knew_ Michael loved.

“How’d you k-know _?_ ” Michael had croaked helplessly and Ash remembers trying to calm himself down so that he didn’t start crying when Michael _needed_ him.

“Me and Lukey found some lovely places we can view, and you can choose which one is your favourite, yeah? And I’ve already discussed it with my manager and, in the new year, I’m gonna be able to work from home _all_ the time – and that’s only one more month, right?” Ash remembers hesitating for a few moments and taking a deep breath before he added: “And I think it’s time we realised that we aren’t enough to help you do this alone.”

“You _a-are_ e-enough,” Michael had murmured, suddenly frightened, and Ash remembers how the gentle circles he rubbed into the soft, smooth skin of Michael’s back seemed to calm him down.

“Not for this,” Ash remembers disagreeing mildly. “At least not now. I think… maybe it’s time we found you some _proper_ help, little one. We all just want you to feel _okay_ again and… and that’s not going to happen without some professional help. We can only do so much, eh?”

“Y-you _h-have_ done s-so much _,_ ” Ash remembers Michael mumbling into his neck as he fiddled distractedly with the starched collar of Ashton’s work shirt.

“Then let me do this for you too,” Ash had whispered, kissing the soft skin behind Michael’s ear because he knew the younger man had loved _that_ once too. (Ash remembers how the shiver that ran through Michael’s lean frame then was like a breath of fresh air as Ash thought: ‘ _He can still feel_ ’.) “Let me find someone who can _help_ me take care of you properly… because it hurts seeing _you_ hurting Mikey, and that’s not okay with me.”

“I’m s-sorry, l-little flower _,_ ” Ash remembers Michael sobbing as he snuggled closer, his hands fisting in the smooth material of Ashton’s suit jacket as the older man held him closer protectively. Ash remembers how Michael was heaving with sobs as Ashton held him tightly, keeping him from falling apart. “But y-yes. Let’s d-do it _._ ”

Ash remembers how _proud_ he was of Michael then, and how relieved.

“Good, Mikey. That’s r-really g-good,” Ash had promised and he remembers how his voice cracked under the weight of everything he was feeling. “So… new house, working from home, and someone to help us make you feel better, yeah?”

“ _Y-yeah_ ,” Ash remembers Michael repeating softly as he cuddled closer, the ghost of a smile touching his lips even as the tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

Ash remembers how that’s exactly what they did.

*

Ash remembers how, slowly, things crept back towards sunshine and roses again, and he remembers how they _stayed_ that way then, forever.

He remembers how Michael had reacted so well to his cognitive behavioural therapy that the doctors hadn’t even needed to prescribe medication. Ash remembers how Michael slept better at nights now, even if he _did_ still occasionally wake up in tears, but Ash _also_ remembers how all it would take to get him back to sleep again was a whispered word and a gentle kiss to anchor him to reality.

Ash remembers how Michael’s hair was dyed a pretty pink colour again, a bit like a rose, and he remembers how Michael was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Ash remembers how Luke and Calum had got married in the spring in a beach ceremony in a cove that would later end up being their local stretch of coast when the pair followed Ashton and Michael out to the quiet coastal village that had become their safe haven.

Ash remembers how he and Michael had a lovely little house to call their own, just a few streets away from Luke and Calum, with two spare bedrooms, a study where Ashton worked during the day, and a special little room that had once been the loft where Michael kept his guitars and Ash’s piano which Luke had taught him to play over the summer.

Ash remembers how their garden was really, _really_ beautiful because Michael had spent so much time taking care of it after his therapist had suggested that he find some new hobbies. Ash remembers how there were flowers _everywhere_ , a beautiful riot of colour that was _nothing_ compared to Michael’s eyes, and Ash remembers how they had a big cactus in a pot that sat outside their back door, occasionally sprouting pink flowers that reminded Ash of his childhood.

He remembers how all of the rooms in their house were bright and airy, full of books and pretty pebbles that the pair of them had collected during the walks they took on the beach almost every evening when Michael felt up to it.

Ash remembers how there were always vases of flowers on the tables and jars of shells on the windowsills. He remembers how they had white lacy curtains hanging over the glass doors that led out onto their veranda, a little like the one Luke’s family had had when they were younger, and Ash remembers how there were more potted plants and flowers out _there_ too, their beautiful scents drifting into the house through the open windows and doors.

Ash remembers when he bought Michael a little fluffy grey kitten for his birthday and he remembers how _happy_ Michael was when he took it with shaking hands, how _jubilant_ he looked as he gave Ashton a huge watery smile and kissed him on the lips before he sat down cross-legged on the floor and began to play with the kitten. Ash remembers how the tiny creature reminded Ash of the little cat that had lived next door to him as a child, and he remembers wondering vaguely what had happened to her before he forced himself to think of happier thoughts.

Ash remembers how the floors were all smooth hardwood and how the banister leading up the stairs was driftwood painted white. Ash remembers how there were lots of little windows set a fair way back into the wall on the way up the stairs and how, on every tiled windowsill, there was a little flower or a delicate succulent in a ceramic pot that Michael and Ash had decorated and grown together.

Ash remembers how they had a painting at the top of the stairs in a frame, all vivid splodges of bright colour with ‘ _Lily Hemmings-Hood_ ’ written in Calum’s neat writing in the bottom corner, along with a small smiley face that had clearly been drawn by Luke.

Ash remembers how there was a small shelf on the landing with picture frames scattered all over it. He remembers how there were photos of him and Michael together – on their wedding, when they were younger, when they first met – and how their families could be seen there too, as well as Calum and Luke and their adopted daughter.

Ash remembers how his very favourite photo was right in the middle, in pride of place. Ash remembers how it had been taken a few months after they had moved into their new house. He remembers how it was of him and Michael and Calum and Luke when they had helped the older two of their group move in – and how it was a _selfie_ although Calum had denied it – and Ash remembers how he paused every time he went upstairs and smiled fondly at the photograph because it was full of such happy memories.

Michael had called it a new beginning – _their_ new beginning – and Ash remembers how that was very true.

He remembers how he walked into their bedroom as the sun was beginning to set, the skies streaked with pinks and reds and purples, like it had been the night when Ashton had first met Michael.

Ash remembers how he found his husband sitting on one side of the swinging chair that sat on their balcony, gazing out over the quiet ocean as the waves lapped gently at the sandy beach.

Ash remembers how he tapped lightly on the glass – keen not to startle Michael – before he slid the door open and sat down beside his husband, wrapping the younger man in his arms and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek as he pulled Michael gently into his lap and hooked his chin over the younger man’s shoulder as the sound of birdsong reached their ears.

Ash remembers how Michael twisted slightly to smile at Ash before he caught the older man’s lips in a gentle kiss as his smaller hands slipped up to cup Ash’s face softly, like he was made of glass.

Ash remembers thinking that everything was safe and happy and _beautiful_ then – he remembers how _real_ it felt – and how he and Michael loved each other – they’d never stop – and how they were going to look after each other, always.

(Ash remembers how that’s exactly what they did.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now the last instalment of the "Beautiful Words" series.  
> I'll be sad to end the series but I feel like maybe it's time to move on.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this series and enjoyed it.  
> Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this!  
> Please leave kudos and comments to let me know what you thought! :)  
> Thank you for reading!


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